The Colour of a Rose
by souleswanderer
Summary: Green calm, burgundy beauty, blue mystery, yellow friendship, white new love, orange passion, lavender love at first sight, pink gentle feelings of love, dk pink love and appreciation, red love, redwht unity,black deathnew beginnings, leaves hope
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Doctor Who, but I will claim any errors or mistakes made herein as all mine. Purely fictional, enjoy.

The cascading water fell onto her shoulders easing away the weariness and tightness playing throughout her muscles. Letting her head drop forward she felt a wave of relief wash over. She closed her eyes succumbing to the gentle beating of hot liquid, massaging tender shoulders and neck before trailing pathways downwards, erasing the sweat and dust. A cool breeze of air passed over raising goose bumps and sending a slight shiver through her before it was swallowed by the surrounding warmth of the shower. She sighed convincing herself it was just imagination then relaxed once again into the soothing ministrations, thanking the TARDIS for her infinite supply of heated water.

Twenty minutes later, the wrinkled skin of her fingers prompted her to leave the peaceful refuge. Stepping onto the thick bath mat and reaching for a towel, her hand froze midway. Rapidly blinking away the droplets of water running into her eyes she tried to focus on the object. Lying there in stark contrast the to white of the towel sat a green rose. Hovering for a moment above the delicate pale flower, she half expected it to disappear, then slowly lowered her hand to grasp it lightly, bringing it close for examination and admiring the fragile looking petals colored by subtle shades of green. This was a first, sure she had received flowers many times, but was unable to recall any green roses. She smiled inhaling the light fragrance as unique as the flower itself.

Wrapping herself in the over sized towel she walked into the bedroom still holding the precious rose. The edge of the bed dimpling slightly as her weight settled onto the pink duvet, she began to ponder how the flower may have gotten into her bathroom. Was it a gift from the TARDIS or one of the other two passengers aboard? She couldn't recall having seen it before stepping into the shower, yet in the rush to erase the days grime, there had been no reason to take in familiar surroundings, when the lure of a warm cleansing was overpowering and all thought consuming. A yawn escaped, and realization that sleep was a luxury she hadn't been afforded in two days except for one small brief respite when they had been in hiding, then their discovery and capture, followed by escape and the all too familiar, running for their lives. Another yawn, and she gratefully fell backwards into the encompassing softness of her bed. 'Just close my eyes a mo'.' She told herself as sleep enveloped her with its soothing invitation.

He stood in the doorway watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she succumbed to sleep. Strands of blond hair splayed around her head in a mussed tangle. He smiled thinking of the chiding she would punish herself with when she awoke to discover the disheveled chaos. A few renegade locks clung to her forehead refusing to relinquish their tenuous hold on her smooth brow. Her full lips were parted slightly as breath escaped in a hypnotizing pattern of life and time. Following the smooth curve of her cheeks, up to those mesmerizing eyes now closed and free of makeup yet she radiated beauty. He marveled at the innocent and angelic face lying before him.

She was so precious, His Rose. His? When had it become possessive? Wouldn't the stodgy old council members scoff at him for that. He could imagine their scathing voices, meant to belittle and force conformity, play through his mind. No more. They no longer existed. He had seen to that. He pushed those thoughts and their voices into a far corner, enclosing them behind a solid door with a final click, allowing him to dwell once again on the nineteen year old, human female, that let him feel alive, gave him the strength to face another day, with a wide-eyed stare full of wonder and a simple naivety he had long ago lost to the demands of the universe weighing heavily on his soul.

A sharp intake of breath tore him out of his reverie as Rose rolled to her side, pulling her legs up onto the bed and curling into a fetal position, still clutching the rose. His eyes widened slightly, two hearts stilling for a brief moment and breath hitched in his throat as he watched the towel slip up her thigh with the motion. Without thought he crossed the room to stand over her still figure, then reverently pulled the remaining covers over the sleeping girl.

He remained for a while watching over her, contemplating the words he felt unable to express any other way except with the single bud, unaware if the message would be understood or accepted. Yet, he had to somehow let her know.

She had brought peace to the turmoil of his soul and dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

As a small child she had loved playing dress up. Numerous hours spent rummaging through her mothers' wardrobe with its assortment of varied treasures, transforming the ordinary and plain into an enchanting and beautiful fairy princess worthy to rule the world. It was pretend, make believe, but for a brief span of time it allowed her to live a dream, a fantasy of the imagination that freely roams in a childs mind.

Standing at the top of the circular steps deep in the heart of the TARDIS, she was again reminded of those carefree moments, bringing with them a feeling of homesickness and lost innocence. Tears began to well, threatening to spill down her cheeks and blurring her vision, blinking rapidly she sniffed then let out a long breath regaining her composure. Taking in the sight before her, an array of clothing stretching farther than she could see, row upon row of eye pleasing colours, shapes and sizes, in the most dazzling display of materials both familiar and unknown. Stepping forward she cautiously reached out, hesitating as if expecting the image to shimmer and fade but found solid reality under her fingertips.

He was normally a patient man having all of time and space at his whim, so he could afford a small respite now and again, yet for the umpteenth time in what seemed like an eternity, which were really but a few minutes, he anxiously checked his watch once more. Maybe she had lost her way and was at this moment wandering in unknown corridors cursing him, or had gotten sidetracked with any of the other distractions his ship offered. He mentally kicked himself for sending her off alone with quick but barely adequate instructions, then glancing one last time at the worn timepiece he turned in ready preparation of a rescue mission, fitting punishment for his smugness he thought, then froze.

She stood in the doorway nervously fidgeting, studying the floor grating with intense concentration, the tip of her tongue lightly set against her upper lip, and fingers playing incessantly with the material of the dress.

He swallowed, for once words escaped him, and the incoherent jumble of nonsense that had threatened to spill out was lost to the void, as all thought seemed to disperse.

The cream coloured dress she eventually chose seemed to flow gently from her shoulders, softly conforming to her figure as a light whisper. Her golden hair pulled back exposing the length of her neck to the breathless kiss of crystal teardrop earrings dancing in hypnotic patterns. In his eyes she looked the epitome of a goddess.

Raising her eyes she caught his gaze as he stepped towards her, an intensity and purpose filling the blue steel eyes that normally reflected unreadable, hidden depths. Halting his advance mere inches from her, she held steady refusing to flinch at his sudden onslaught feeling heat radiating off his body through the thin material she wore. Deliberately leaning forward he brought his hands up to her throat, knuckles caressed skin with a feathery touch as he placed a golden chain around her neck causing a slight blush to rise in her cheeks. Arching closer, his warm breath gliding over her cheek, she closed her eyes committing this to memory as he fastened the clasp, abruptly stepped back arms dropping to his sides.

Rose felt a black hole open before her in his absence and barely caught herself from falling headlong into the abyss. Straightening she peered down at the object resting against her chest, a single burgundy rose bud, captured in detailed perfection set upon a miniature heart of gold.

"Beautiful." She whispered.

"Couldn't agree more."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : I don't own Doctor Who, just my imagination. I will claim any and all mistakes.

Summary : A blue rose, mystery and more

Attain the impossible.

Interesting phrase, he mulled those three little words over and over in his mind amidst the infinite ideas that besieged his inner thoughts. All the while his hands immersed in the moist soil, working the dirt through his large slender fingers, while scooping out a cone shaped hole and placing the dirt in a growing mound next to his knee. He gave no thought to the stains being inflicted on the black jeans as he hunched forward intent on his task, the leather jacket having been discarded earlier and left to rest on the ground behind as witness in silent vigilance. Leaning back onto his haunches a loud sigh escaped as his body groaned in protest from the unfamiliar position, it was times like this he felt in his bones and muscles all the abuse and wear nine hundred plus years had inflicted upon it. Brushing dirt from his covered hands he reached across the newly dug hole carefully removing the treasured plant from its potted cocoon and deposited it with a touch of reverence, filling in the excess earth. Surveying his handiwork he nodded with self satisfaction, pushed up from the ground dusting himself off, then turned to retrieve his jacket.

The shadows silhouette was all too familiar as he stood and met her gaze, knowing he wasn't doing anything he shouldn't be, but still feeling slightly guilty at being caught unawares.

"Hello." He managed to get out while attempting to look very, very innocent. When he received no answer he became conscious of her eyes slowly roaming over his chest, and realized he still gripped the jacket he normally wore as armour at his side. This was definitely a strange turn of events and could prove to be advantageous he surmised. "Well?"

She jumped slightly, breaking out of her reverie and raising her eyes again to the Doctors. He noticed the slight blush infusing her cheeks and it sent his hearts into a momentary double tempo. "See anything you like?" He smiled teasingly.

"I, uh," her mouth opened and closed as she searched frantically for any words to replace the mental image she had of removing that particular blue jumper from his lean chest. Inwardly chiding herself for her foolishness, she could almost hear his derisive laughter if he discovered she had a schoolgirl crush on him, him an intelligent, mature, accomplished and above all, human looking alien that only saw her as a traveling companion.

Glancing furtively around, she became aware the room they were in was a garden of sorts, unlike any she had ever seen. Numerous flowers and unknown plants in a rainbow variety of colors, shapes, sizes and species, intermingled with towering jungle like vines creating a mosaic of patterns and eye pleasing display. Turning slightly he followed her eyes as she surveyed their surroundings and was captivated, watching wonder and curiosity replace the earlier embarrassment.

"Doctor, it's beautiful." She exclaimed breathlessly stepping closer to him and sliding her hand into his, fingers intertwining in their common pairing. He felt a rush of emotions crash over him, none the least of which was an overwhelming sense of joy at her her reaction. His already inflated ego took a hyperspace jump and he rewarded her with a stunning smile reaching to his eyes, then quickly squeezed her hand in acknowledgement.

"Just a little 'obby of mine. Been gathering different types of plant-life since I started traveling, although haven't quite kept up with it the last few years. There are species from all over, let me show you." Pulling her forward he began pointing out the different plants, animatedly explaining their origins, evolution, pollination cycles, flowering transitions.

After twenty minutes or so had passed the Doctor continuing on with his discourse, Rose no longer heard the words, instead letting the warm tones of his voice caress her as she bent to examine the different flora. She inhaled peculiar scents unable to label them with her limited experiences, felt with her fingers, textures undefinable and began to realize just how small and insignificant her known world was. Then she paused, her knees mirroring the earlier imprints, she hesitantly reached towards the fragile, blossoming bud. She started when his voice spoke next to her ear.

"A blue rose." He stated quietly, crouched next to her kneeling form.

"Is it real?" Taking in the fact the 'blue' was closer to a shade of lilac then actually blue.

He chuckled, "'Course it's real. You think I'd go to all the bother of planting something fake?" He leaned closer able to smell the subtle combination of apple and pear fragrance from her shampoo.

She turned to look at him, feeling the earlier blush return as his eyes leisurely swept over her face memorizing every detail. His hand tentatively reached towards her face, casually brushing back a strand of blond hair ever so tenderly. She was sure her heart had stopped, or this was what it felt like for time to have come to a standstill, either way it didn't make sense.

"It's one of a kind, unique, " His voice huskier, eyes pulled back to the rose in contemplation.

Rose continued staring at him, still unsure of what was happening. Was he really flirting with her or was it just her overactive imagination playing games.

"I thought they didn't exist." She finally uttered, kicking herself for sounding so incredibly stupid. It was a real living thing, right smack in front of her and she had to be such a dunce, possibly ruining what could have been a perfect moment.

"As a matter of fact," began the Doctor as he stood again, "it was only last year, you earthlings discovered them using genetic engineering." He offered his hand and pulled her to her feet in front of him. "Just goes to show you, nothing is impossible." He placed a quick kiss on her forehead then abruptly turned leading her out.

He was definitely a mystery, she mused.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, but will claim all mistakes**

**Summary: Single red-tipped yellow rose, Birthday**

He places the single stemmed rose across the empty plate, bright yellow coloring highlighted with red tips standing out in sharp contrast to the muted white china. Letting his eyes sweep the room taking in the carefully orchestrated breakfast he's created, from the silver tray aligned with an assortment of fruits, peeled, cut sliced and diced in an intricate motif of colors and shapes, the sausages sizzling in hot grease punctuating the air with random pops, bubbling water just beginning to boil, eagerly awaiting tea bags, to the slices of bread standing in strict upright attention as silent vigils prepared for orders, he sets a chilled glass of fresh juice onto the table, moisture beginning to form around the sides adapting to the change in temperature.

Satisfied, he allows himself a small grin, once again shushing the voice in his head that tells him he doesn't do domestics, this is a celebration, a special occasion, therefore, technically it's not, considered domestic.

His blue eyes raise in desirous anticipation as he hears light footsteps approaching. Suddenly he is animated, turning he depresses the lever on the toaster, hearing a click as the bread falls towards the heated coils, pivoting he tosses tea bags into the scalding water and grabs another plate spinning back to the liberate the browned sausages, finally, inhales deeply forcing himself to relax, ending the waltz and assuming a nonchalant stance as he faces the entry. His face breaks into a manic 'who wouldn't be impressed with me' grin as he imagines her reaction to this skillful and carefully calculated performance.

Rose burst through the door in a wild flurry of activity, eyes bright with excitement, blond hair tied up into a single ponytail with a pale blue scarf bouncing with each step, a pastel pink polo just covered the tops of tight blue jeans and a pair of comfortable trainers completed the ensemble, announcing her hasty dress and headlong eagerness to face whatever the day would bring.

"Got tired of waiting for you to wake me up," she exclaimed brightly, reaching around him for a piece of sausage, popping it into her mouth then amidst a gasp, snatched the glass of juice and gulped a mouthful to cool the burning within. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand she rapidly retreated, "Jack and I will be exploring a bit whilst you finish breakfast." she called back over her shoulder, footsteps and voice receding. "Don't be long!"

The Doctor stood stock-still, unblinking, mouth ajar, in the aftermath of the tornado that had swept through the kitchen, leaving a large path of emotional chaos in its' wake.

Him. A Time Lord. One with billions of words at his disposal in as many languages, was left speechless and dumbfounded. That was utterly, and totally, beyond a doubt, _not_ a reaction he had contemplated, nor would it have arisen in any one of his regenerations thoughts.

Dropping heavily into a chair, he seriously contemplated different ways to dispose of Jack, then accepted it was in fact, his own stupidity and arrogance assuming she would know this was all for her. Never before had he let her sleep in so late, or taken great care to land on a quiet planet for a little holiday, complete with a shopping mall, spa, fair, beach and peaceful inhabitants, made her breakfast other than toast, or suggest he wanted to celebrate or even acknowledge her birthday.

He reached for the flower, twirled it around a few times in his hand. Standing, the stench of burnt sausages reached his nostrils followed immediately by a downpouring of water, soaking through his jumper while dousing the small fire on the stove. Blinking droplets out of his eyes he made his way to her room, and lay the rose on her pillow.

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It had been an enjoyable day, a whirlwind of sights, sounds, scary and daring rides to be goaded onto, squeals of laughter, hand holding, experimental alien foods to taste, brief hugs, exotic drinks to share and quick kisses between slow dances, then a late night fireworks display.

A very weary Rose made her way back to her room smiling contentedly as she thought, this had quite possibly been the best birthday ever, even if she was the only one that knew. A frown creased her brow upon spying a single stemmed, yellow rose upon her pillow. She couldn't shake the thought it looked familiar somehow as she picked it up revealing a small piece of paper underneath with just two simple words.

Happy Birthday.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose was ecstatic, not only had the Doctor promised her and Jack a festive night out, she had even managed to find time to go shopping that afternoon and had a new dress to wear for the occasion. A deep maroon taffeta cocktail number that lay across her bed with a matching pair of platform sandals.

According to the Doctor, the Grand Ball was a celebration of the 'coming of age' of the youngest daughter in the Royal Family, and a masquerade provided the ideal opportunity for suitors to approach the princess seeking her favor. Rose was intrigued by the thought of being swept off her feet by some unknown mystery man, whereas Jack just grinned boyishly in eager anticipation of the nights activities, both on and off the dance floor, leaving the Doctor to sigh and roll his eyes in exasperation and mumbling about silly apes and their insatiable fantasies.

"You should be a bit more flexible in your dancing Doc." Jack had chided him with a provocative wink he'd chosen to ignore.

Then he and Rose had left the Doctor alone in the console room as they headed down the corridor to their respective rooms to change for the evening.

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Rose turned the pearl white masque over in her hands, lightly fingering the stiff plastic face that looked blankly back at her. It reminded her of the adverts for shows she had seen posted on the brick walls just outside the playhouses near the estates. They had always struck her as a bit odd those unseeing faces, staring out with no expression, almost creepy. She shook her head, then stepped one last time in front of the mirror admiring the way the dress swirled around her gently then settled back loosely draping over her legs stopping just below the knee. A final adjustment to the spaghetti straps resting on her shoulders, a quick tuck of errant hair behind the ear, she seemed pleased at last with the outcome and left her room, off to an evening of enjoyment.

Jacks eyes widened as she stepped into the console room, the past twenty minutes of waiting seemingly forgotten, he let out an appreciative whistle.

"Rosie, you are absolutely gorgeous." She whirled in a circle enjoying the feel of the dress billowing around her and feeling her cheeks flush slightly with the attention Jack was bestowing upon her as he stepped towards her.

"Looking quite dashing yourself Captain." He grinned and dipped his head in acquiescence. Rose glanced quickly around the room, disappointment registering on her face.

"Where's the Doctor?" Jack shrugged noncommittally.

"Probably too domestic for him, you know how he enjoys crowds." A tinge of sarcasm crept into his voice. "Although," He presented her with a small corsage of three miniature rose buds, bound with a thin ribbon of gold tied in a bow. "He asked me to give you this."

She didn't object as the time agent stepped forward without hesitation, pinned the corsage with deft and practised precision then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Offering his arm in an open invitation he gave her an entreating smile.

"Shall we Miss Tyler?" Awarding him with her own dazzling smile, she linked arms allowing him to pull her to his side as they swiftly departed the TARDIS, unaware of the set of steel blue eyes following their progress.

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Rich colorful tapestries lined the walls in silent contemplation, looking down upon the multitude of rainbows ebbing and flowing across the dance floor in time to the tempo of the music. There seemed no shortage of dance partners she discovered, although most of them were rather intent on letting their hands roam freely and she was left discovering new and inventive ways of distracting wandering appendages while attempting to learn the unfamiliar dance steps. Finally, sinking gratefully onto a cushioned chair below one of the giant sentients, Rose sighed resignedly behind the masques unforgiving and stifling confinement. Quickly spotting the time agent with yet another partner she made up her mind to find the ladies room in search of a little relief, knowing he would be occupied for a while.

The masque lay beside the porcelain sink as she splashed cold water on her face, savoring the coolness against hot skin, uncaring as small rivulets made their way down her chin, halting them only as they began to trail down her throat.

"He must be very special." Rose started at the voice, unaware until now of the others presence beside her.

"S sorry?" She managed to stammer confused, looking over at innocent blue eyes under brown hair peeking out below a hastily pushed back green masque.

"A single white rose symbolizes an unbreakable bond of new love." Pointing to the corsage pinned on Roses' dress. "Such a rarity here, yet you wear three of them." The girl frowned, inhaling slowly, her brow puckering as she looked into Roses' eyes with accusation in her tone. "Why is it that you dance with so many if you are spoken for?"

Shocked, Rose grabbed the masque and hurried past the girl almost running towards the door, feeling her face suddenly flush with embarrassment. Had the Doctor known? And if he had, why have Jack give them to her? Why white roses? She managed to regain some semblance of her composure as she stepped back onto the dance floor, her face hidden again behind the masque. Politely she declined the next few invitations to dance as she made her way to one of the many secluded balconies and stepped out into the crisp night air. Confident she was alone she removed the masque, dropping it onto a bench then leaning chin in hand onto the balconies ledge.

Lost in her thoughts she didn't hear the footsteps behind her until the voice spoke. "There you are, had me worried for a moment." She straightened up, looking over her shoulder at Jack and gave him a half smile.

"I'm fine, just getting some fresh air." Jack was immediately beside her, an arm around her waist and an intense look on his face as he studied hers.

"Tell me what's wrong Rose." She bit back a laugh realizing Jack was genuinely concerned for her well being and instead shook her head.

"Nah, really I'm okay. Jus' thinkin is all."

Still unconvinced everything was alright, Jack offered to get drinks despite her protests, and promised to return immediately, his footsteps fading into the soft lullaby now being played. Turning her back to the floor she stared out into the night, studying the pinpoints of light in their haphazard patterns, wondering if any were familiar to her and letting the music soothe the turmoil in her mind.

A second song finished playing when she sensed a presence behind her. Turning in expectation, her breath caught as she found herself facing a tall stranger silhouetted against the light from the doorway.

"Dance?" He whispered so quietly she thought it might have been her imagination, then she felt a hand on her waist and another lifting her hand in his as he began to lead. He silenced the beginning of her protest with a quiet but firm shushing noise, and continued to guide their movements in the dark. their bodies seeming to move in perfect unison. The earlier accusation ringing in her mind, she forced herself to step away from him, releasing his hand.

"I'm sorry," she bit her lower lip squinting as tears began to fill her eyes, she sniffed "I...I can't."

He stepped forward closing the space again, hand remaining on her waist, she could barely make out the half masque of black he wore, "Why?" Another low whisper.

She turned away from him quickly, clenching her fists, forcing herself not to cry. Inhaling slowly, she fought back angry tears, then felt hands on her shoulders and a low voice whisper in her ear, as warm breath caressed her cheek. "Tell me."

"It's my friend, yeah? And he keeps giving me these flowers. Roses. Actually. Only I thought he just did it, cause, you know, that's what he does, yeah? He cares about things. Cares a lot. But not people. At least not that way, cause he doesn't do domestics, yeah? But he keeps giving me flowers. For no reason. Not like it ever means anything, 'specially to him." She stopped, holding back the rush of tears and the sobs threatening to engulf her, instead holding her breath.

"It means something, Rose." He stated simply, letting his hands fall to his sides as he took a step back from her. She was facing him in an instant, tears falling unheeded down her cheeks, disbelief registering in her eyes. Removing the masque he cupped her cheek with his other hand, thumb brushing away tears, his eyes asking a silent question. She responded with an embrace he quickly acknowledged wrapping her in a hug. "Did I tell you, you look beautiful?" he murmured into her hair.

"For a human?" she answered feeling his rumbling chuckle play over the double heartbeats. He planted a kiss on the top of her head.

Pulling back slightly he looked down at her, a small smile playing on his lips, "Care to dance?"

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Jack turned back to the dance floor, drinks in hand. It wouldn't take him long to find a willing dance partner he thought grinning like the Cheshire Cat.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack sauntered into the console room, the other occupant glanced up upon hearing his footsteps then quickly looked back down, busying himself once again with the flipping of levers and switches as he circled the control panel. Jack sighed, shaking his head. He stood silently watching the other move purposefully around the console reminding him of a jungle cat so sure of his motions and moving with a grace and litheness that contradicted the lanky and ungainly porportions of his lean frame. Then those piercing blue eyes were boring through him causing him to shift his feet uneasily.

"Look, um, about earlier." The other shook his head, dropping his gaze and resumed his maneuvering amongst the assortment of levers and switches at his command.

"Told you it's over. Now, just forget about it." Jack stepped forward tentatively, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

"Listen Doc,"

The Doctor froze with his hand hovering just above a small yellow button and imparted another withering glare towards his younger companion, hoping to silence him. Jack either chose to ignore the unspoken intent or misunderstood. The Doctor instead found himself face to face with Jack and pulling himself to his full height, although scarcely looking down upon his opponent, he hoped he struck an imposing figure yet was met with an unwavering look.

"You can be the most 'stubborn' being I've ever known, but you will listen." Jack matched the Doctor's icy stare with his own not giving an inch to the hard-headed time lord. "There is nothing between Rose and I. We were both drunk, it was one little kiss. It's you she has feelings for, and if you weren't so damned pig-headed," he paused glowering across the small space, and poking his finger into the other's chest for emphasis. "you'd do something about it!" The Doctor caught Jack's finger and held it securely in his iron grip, his thunderous countenance would have withered a lesser man and just for a moment a flicker of doubt passed over Jack's features. Then the Doctor broke into a huge grin, grabbed Jack around his shoulders pulling him to his side as he steered them towards the door. Jack's eyes widened and he attempted to slow their momentum, thinking surely the Doctor wouldn't throw him out into space over a simple kiss? Then he felt an imperceptible thump as the TARDIS landed.

"You're stop I believe?" Said the Doctor as he flung open the door and escorted Jack out into the brightness.

Squinting at the change in lighting Jack experienced a touch of panic. "So that's it, eh Doc?" He twisted furiously out of the others grip, hoping to hide the hurt in his eyes. One stupid little mistake, and now he would pay for it by being abandoned on an unknown planet left once again to fend for himself. Well, he thought to himself, I'm not giving the bastard any satisfaction. With steely resolution he turned holding out his hand, "Been fun, eh Doc?" The Doctor looked taken aback as shocked surprise registered across his face, then understanding slowly spread across his features. Before Jack could react the Doctor had pulled him into a tight hug and was laughing merrily. Jack, thoroughly confused, attempted to push away from this mad character to no avail.

"Jack," the Doctor began, his hands now holding the other so their foreheads touched, and captured him with his intense gaze, "I've planned an evening with Rose, just so you know." Jack wore a wary expression but let the Doctor continue. "So you need to bugger off for, oh, a day or so." He released him and stood back allowing his eyes to roam the horizon. "Perfectly peaceful planet, shouldn't find too much trouble, and I expect you back no later than tomorrow afternoon." He finished waggling his finger at Jack as he stepped back inside the TARDIS.

Jack stood with his hands on his hips chuckling with relief and shaking his head in disbelief, he'd misjudged the Doctor, and if all the Doctor was wanting was a night alone with Rose, well, he could at least give him that. He scanned the area determining his destination then set off with lively purpose, he was feeling adventurous.

The Doctor watched on the monitor as Jack walked away from the ship. Now it was time to put the second part of his plan into action, so then why did he feel so nervous, his stomach doing flip-flops, sweaty palms, and wondering if this would even work? After all it had been quite a number of years, if not possibly a few centuries, since he had let himself get this involved. Is that what it was, involved? He pondered as he rubbed his face with his hands, suddenly feeling as old as his nine hundred years. This was foolish. Foolish that one single solitary human could instill these feelings and emotions that raged through him like an untethered storm. Foolish that with five billion languages and an infinite vocabulary at his command, he couldn't just tell her. He was unable to say the words, yet what good were overused almost meaningless words that wouldn't begin to express what he felt. He leaned straight-armed against the console letting his head hang as he felt the comforting vibration from his ship course upwards through his hands.

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Sitting in the library sprawled across the worn leather sofa she closed the hardback book she had been reading for most of the afternoon. Standing she stretched out the kinks from lying in one place to long, then set the book down and wandered off towards her bedroom beginning to wonder what the other two occupants were up to. As she stepped into her room her eyes were drawn to the nightstand where an orange rose lay atop an envelope. She gingerly picked up the unusual rose and brought it closer inhaling it's fresh ethereal aroma, the stem smooth to the touch. Not recognizing the flowing script on the envelope she slowly opened it to reveal a single card with more of the same writing her name had been meticulously inscribed with. Musing over the contents of the card she placed it back onto the nightstand, and carried the rose over to her wardrobe where she contemplated what to wear. After a few moments of perusal she finally pulled out her favorite pink hoodie since the note had said casual and slightly warm and it fulfilled both stipulations. She was shaking slightly as she put it on, laying the rose down upon her dresser for a brief moment, slipped her arms through the comfortable garment zipping it up as she glanced in the mirror. Running a brush hastily through her hair, she then seized the rose and made her way to the console room forcing herself to slow her pace before entering the room.

The Doctor had been fidgeting. Normally used to action he hated to wait, especially if it was waiting in anticipation such as now. He had turned his fidgeting into pacing, then rechecking the monitors a dozen or so times to be sure there was time left. There was irony, worried about time he was after all his careful planning and calculating and here he was left waiting, feeling time pass by. He was unable to supress his feelings of relief when he heard her footsteps, almost runnning to grab her hand he swiftly led her out of the TARDIS. "C'mon, don't want to be late."

Rose was forced to jog to keep up with his quick pace, the tension on her arm never letting up as she followed behind him. Upon leaving the ship they had turned and headed towards a mountain, the Doctor seeming sure of his destination. After twenty minutes of the quick pace set by the Doctor, Rose was beginning to feel a burning sensation starting in her calves and her breathing had become laboured. "Doctor." She panted, starting to slow as the Doctor continued his relentless pull on her arm.

"Just to that outcropping, almost there." He called over his shoulder excitedly pointing with his free hand to a small ledge of rocks resembling a large dining table not too far ahead. As they reached their destination Rose dropped the rose then sank thankfully next to it onto the hard ground, stretching her legs out and began rubbing her stiff muscles threatening to cramp. The Doctor was looking around, nodding and talking to himself enthusiastically. "Yep, this should be perfect! Oh, I can't wait 'til you see this. I think you'll like it. Only happens once every three thousand years or so." Rose unsure of what the Doctor was on about took in her surroundings.

Off to her left she could just make out the small silhouette of the TARDIS in the distance. Behind her and to her other side she found herself peering up at steep craggy mountains looming over them, the planets sun descending slowly towards the peak. A sea of white lay spread before her as far into the horizon as she could see. "It's moving." She stated simply looking up at the Doctor who was gazing out over the expanse and nodding in agreement, his features suddenly growing serious. "What is it?" He caught the worry in her voice and turned towards her, moving immediatly behind her and squatting down.

"Absolutely nothing to worry about, Rose." He assured her, his voice low and soothing close to her ear. Turning her head quickly she almost bumped into his nose, unaware he had ventured so close. The Doctor bent nearer, reaching out to her side and picked up the orange flower bringing it up between them. He appeared to study it intently, then glanced back catching her eyes. She felt as if she was falling, his stare was just as intense as he watched her. "Do you know what the colour of an orange rose represents?" He asked in hesitant whisper. Seeing a flicker of fear in those ancient eyes she shook her head, unwilling to break contact or speak in case the moment disappeared. She noticed the contours of his face darken as the sun began to set behind the mountain, his eyes then looked past her and she felt an emptiness engulf her as the contact was lost. His head moving closer to hers forced her to look forward again as she followed his gaze. A simple command she wasn't sure if he'd spoken or she heard in her mind, "Watch."

The chill that ran through her body wasn't from the temperature as the Doctor settled behind her, his long legs flanking hers, his chest slightly pressed into her back. Before she could react to his closeness she became mesmerized by the scene unfolding before them. The field of white took on a slight pastel pink tinge that grew ever darker in shade as the sun journeyed further behind the mountain. Just as the light faded a thin strip of color began reappearing, this time bathing it's path in a flaming orange swath reminiscent of a runaway fire, the vibrant colour splashing in waves across the expanse, fading then growing brilliant again and again, then ever so slowly the colors diminished to the pale white under the planets dual moons.

Rose inhaled deeply. She had sat in awe watching the scene play before her. "Amazing." She breathed finally managing to find her voice.

The Doctor had been captivated by her reaction, watching her eyes light up reflecting the myriad of colors and the wonder on her face during the spectacle. He smiled content in knowing she had shared in his appreciation of the magnificent beauty they had witnessed.

She looked down at the arms wrapped around her waist, felt the strong steady heartbeats against her back, saw the rose still held in one of his large calloused hands. Her two smaller hands wrapped around his, pulling the rose forward, as she leaned back into him, her brown eyes looking up into his blue. "What does the colour orange represent Doctor?" She asked timidly, unaware she held her breath. He slid his hand from hers, leaving the rose in her grasp.

"An orange rose," he nodded towards the calm, faded field, "symbolizes the heat of passion," he slowly brought his hand up to rest against her cheek, "and burning desire." he finished, leaning forward and letting his lips brush lightly against hers.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N : Sorry this one is so short...and thanks for all the nice reviews thus far.**

Chapter 7 Lavender

Rose was still disbelieving the events that had taken place the previous evening. First, the Doctor had shown her the most amazing sunset, complete with a blazing orange rendition of the northern lights effects over a solid field of white roses, then he had expressed his feelings for her with a kiss.

Sighing contentedly she lay back against the pillow, eyes closed, reliving that gentle kiss in minute detail once again. She could feel the softness of his lips pressing against hers, hesitant at first as if gauging her reaction. His ancient blue eyes held hers spellbound, layered in universal mysteries yet betraying the barest flicker of uncertainty. The warmth of his breath caressed her face intermingling with the enveloping aroma of fresh roses, she inhaled the light scent of worn leather, musk and something more, him. Then she had surrendered to his ministrations, lips leisurely and deliberately exploring each others parting only when the need for air left them breathless. Foreheads pressed together as they separately pondered this new aspect of their relationship.

They sat in each others arms, listening to the sounds of the evening play a muted symphony around them as they watched the moons climb ever higher into the night sky tracing thin shadows over the landscape. Leaning back against his chest with his arms wrapped around her in a protective hug, her forehead resting against his jaw she felt a gentle peace steal over her.

A low rumble emanated from his chest as he chuckled quietly, looking down upon the sleeping figure in his arms, her steady breath brushing light feather strokes against his neck, his hand absently rubbing small circular patterns on her back, not daring to shift further for fear of waking her and ending the fantasy. He closed his eyes letting the rhythm of her heartbeat reverberate through his body, solid waves of strength crashing against his battered soul, and for a few moments he discerned voices from his past belonging to the people he had been forced to destroy, then they faded back to whispered gloom. He involuntarily pulled her closer, a small ember of hope that burned brightly against the stark contrast of charred and blackened destruction he left in his wake.

He knew the moment he had fallen. Surrounded by shop window dummies he had taken her hand and told her to 'run'. Would she ever understand he hadn't save her? She was his guardian angel, bringing him back from the edge of oblivion and teaching him the greatest force in the universe was someone believing in you. A single tear trailed downward as he lay his cheek on her head, "I love you, Rose Tyler." He murmured and placed a small kiss in her hair.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose's eyes shot open with a start. Glancing around the room quickly she realized she was back in her room in the TARDIS. Was all that had happened just a dream she wondered, until her eyes settled on the pink hoodie folded neatly at the foot of her bed, where a single lavender rose in full bloom lay atop and she found herself reaching for it. Picking it up gently, she marvelled at the softness of the petals brushing against her skin, the intricate beauty and design of the flower, lavender colour tinged with darker hues of purple laced with a scent of strong rose and a citrus blossom fragrance. Smiling in contemplation she hugged the rose to her chest.

Rose was still disbelieving the events that had taken place the evening before.

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

A/N **First time writing this kind of thing... constructive crit always welcome, 'scuse my mistakes. **

Thwack! The blow reverberated loudly throughout the room, momentarily muffling the sound of running water coming from the open doorway. Quickly untying the other trainer, the rooms lone occupant barely registered the fog of white steam escaping from the doorway clouding the room and carrying with it a light scent of vanilla and jasmine. Another missile sailed towards the far wall to join its counterpart, thwack! Small chunks of damp mud splattered in a random pattern outwards from the center of impact, Rose didn't care. Wiggling her toes in delight now that they were free from their confines, she could feel herself beginning to relax and the thought of a really lengthy drawn out, very hot, bubble bath was the only reason she had a smile on her face. A crumpled trail of clothes followed her into the bathroom as she hurriedly undressed.

She stepped gingerly into the airy mounds of iridescent bubbles letting her body slowly descend into the inviting warm liquid heaven. Lying back against the porcelain her head resting on the cool surface, she allowed a pleasurable sigh to escape her lips, watching through half closed eyes, the tumultuous shifting of weightless clouds reforming around her as the water stilled. Warmth flowed through her tired aching muscles like a gentle massage, heat radiating outward encasing the room in steam. She dozed, dreamed of floating suspended in clouds blanketed by the warmth of a sun shining down, the quiet one hears on the whispered breeze softly singing.

Singing. Her brows furrowed as she became aware of a haunting melody that seemed somewhat familiar. As consciousness stole back Rose suddenly realized someone was humming. She cautiously peered blearily at the silhouette leaning back against the wall then suddenly remembered where she was. Her eyes flew open discovering only a thin filmy layer remained of the mountainous piles of bubbles she had long ago settled under. Swallowing hard she felt a heated flush creep upwards and silently praying he wouldn't notice her discomfort she spoke quietly, "I recognize the tune, jus' can't place it."

The Doctor continued humming softly as he pushed himself away from the wall and held up a small bouquet of four pale pink roses. He had a very nice voice she mused while her eyes fervently searched for something, anything to use as cover, but to her dismay the towels sat mocking her on the opposite wall, light years away as far as she was concerned. Resignedly she closed her eyes once more, inwardly sighing and praying he would soon be bored and wander off elsewhere.

Maybe, it was the familiar sound of the brush of leather. Maybe, it was the imperceptible tearing of a petal and its descent downwards, falling from his fingers. Maybe, it was the subtle pulsating ripples across her skin as the petals lit upon the waters surface. Maybe, it was the faint scent of roses, mixing with the underlying vanilla and jasmine. Maybe, it was the piercing stare she felt penetrating her closed eyelids. Maybe, it was the recollection of the melody.

You Are So Beautiful To Me.

She knew that song. The first time she had heard it she had giggled with her best mate Shireen, dancing together and watching the timid boys stand silent across the room, too shy to ask for a dance. The second time was her cousin's wedding, tears falling amidst smiles as the happy couple exchanged their vows. She began to hum along, smiling with the memories playing in her mind.

"Rose." Her name whispered in hushed tones roused her from her reverie, and she looked up into the Doctor's searching eyes, following his gaze he pulled the final petal off the stripped stem and watched as it traced a hidden pink trail downwards.

She gasped sharply, stiff neck muscles protesting at the slight movement upon trying to raise her head. The Doctor was immediately kneeling beside the tub, leaning close he brought his hands to her neck and began firmly rubbing tiny circles with his fingertips, working his way around to the back of her neck. Rose was finding it hard to relax as the Doctor plied his ministrations, his eyes full of concern studying her face and something more. His cool hands sent slight shock waves through her body, forcing unwanted thoughts. Biting her lower lip she forced herself to break their eye contact, focusing instead on the dancing petals floating atop the water.

Soft, like a smooth velvet he thought, each stroke of his fingers against her skin sending a medley of sensations screaming through his body, nerve endings on fire, then she had pulled her eyes away and he had felt a momentary loss, but he had already fallen too far. His thumbs tracing along the bottom of her jaw line, eyes drawn to her sensual lips remembering their first kiss under a setting sun, he continued falling, pulling her close.

Her eyes closed as their lips met, hardly daring to believe she wasn't dreaming his touch so gentle as he explored, teased and shared. She parted her lips slightly and he eagerly accepted the invitation learning her mouth with his tongue, smiling as a low moan escaped her, and savoring each individual moment as a treasure.

His hands encircled her wrists and he stood guiding her upwards, rose petals clinging to her damp skin as she stepped from the tepid water. Rose was immediately wrapped in a towel by the Doctor before being captured in another searing kiss.

Intertwining hands the Doctor led Rose away.


	9. Chapter 9

Rose awoke with a start, alone. Lying on her back, eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness, her ears picked up the muted hum of the ship in the background as she thought of floating.

Floating on billowy soft clouds carried gently on a light breeze of jasmine, the Doctor's lean strong fingers meticulously administering to her tired muscles, gently kneading life back into her weary body, easing away her anxieties. From feather light touches to pressured intensity he had played her tenderly like a coordinated symphony as she succumbed to a tranquil slumber. With a heavy sigh he leaned over her back, nuzzling her neck he breathed in her scent, eyes closed in submission, a longing coursing through his body, lips brushing slightly over her jaw, willpower alone kept him from surrendering to his desire. Shakily he pulled away, watching the figure lying peacefully, he covered her with the duvet, offered one more longing gaze and retreated, crestfallen.

She groaned and threw her arm over her eyes remembering the hurt look that briefly flashed across the Doctor's face, standing before him in only a towel she had looked away suddenly embarrassed and began to fidget under his penetrating stare, emotions entangled in a jumbled mass. In the blink of an eye what had started as something romantic abruptly switched to almost clinical.

"Lie down, I'll grab some oil." He stepped back into the bathroom, she could hear the disappointment in his voice and mentally kicked herself for being such an idiot. Chagrined she hastily pulled on a pair of sleep bottoms, spread the towel out, then lay down crosswise on the bed. Back to the usual routine she thought, immediately closing her eyes hoping to escape into herself and not have to face him.

The large red block numbers shone dimly in the darkness reading out two thirty-eight am. With an exasperated sigh Rose buried her head once again into her pillow, how long could a night go on she thought. This was the third time in the last ten minutes she had stolen a glance at the clock only to see it mocking her by refusing to change faster. Swinging her pajama clad legs over the edge of the bed she sat up glaring fiercely at the illuminated annoyance next to her. She grabbed her terry cloth robe and made her way into the corridor yawning tiredly and stretching while the clothing settled around her, tying the belt she squinted against the muted glare of the hallways light.

Rose started towards the console room then stopped a puzzled frown on her face. It seemed to be abnormally quiet, there was none of the bantering monologue or mechanical clanking that always signified the Doctor was either busy rewiring, recalibrating, repairing or just tinkering with his beloved ship. She ran a hand absently through her tousled hair musing he might possibly be in the kitchen, and turned to retrace her steps. Something wasn't right. She realized a few steps later what that something was. Rose petals, scattered along the floor being crushed as she continued onward, sticking to the bottom of her bare feet their velvet touch just a slight whisper against her soles, and the subtle fragrance beginning to permeate the passageway.

Following the trail of dark pink petals Rose smiled remembering the last few weeks, and the carefully coordinated scenarios the Doctor had devised to illustrate his feelings towards her. She felt goose bumps as she let the trail of petals lead her past the kitchen and further into the TARDIS, and wondered what, if anything she might be able to say to make things right. The petals led up to a dark carved doorway standing slightly ajar, she recognized the door to the library. It's warm interior was inviting and the rows upon rows of shelves seemed never ending. Numerous times she had found the Doctor hidden amongst stacks of books when he was searching for answers to the latest puzzle, and on the odd occasion they found time to relax they would either read separately, or he would read favorite passages to her.

Stepping closer to the door she discerned a faint snoring emanating from the room, and reverently pushed the door inward. The Doctor lay sprawled across the dark sofa, one arm cradled behind his head the other loosely hanging at his side, jacket deposited on the floor in a crumpled heap. It was a rare occasion when the Doctor slept, and Rose was aware of the demons that plagued him, yet he appeared to be resting peacefully, the deep lines etched into his features softened by the rooms dim light. On his chest lay an open worn leather journal displaying symbols and odd characters, penned in a flowing script gracefully mapped across the pages. Hardly daring to breathe, not wanting to break the spell she took a step backwards and turned to leave.

"Rose." The whisper of her name stopped her and she looked back at the Doctor now watching her.

Pulling her robe tighter, she picked nervously at the belt, daring a look back at him over her shoulder. "Sorry, couldn't sleep. Didn't mean to wake you." She apologized rapidly, shrugging, and preparing to depart.

"C'm 'ere." In one smooth motion he had flipped to his side, retrieved the journal and was patting an empty spot with his hand, his eyes pleading. Rose approached the sofa tentatively. "It's ok Rose. I'm sorry about earlier. I should never have"

"No Doctor," she interrupted. She was now sitting next to him, looking down, a small apologetic grin reinforcing her words. "It was me." Inhaling she caught her bottom lip and glanced away briefly. "It's all a bit overwhelming, gotta admit, but you do do things in a big way." He chuckled acknowledging the truth. "And I've been thinking." He raised an eyebrow and bit back his retort as she shot him a 'don't even go there' look. "Would you mind if we took this just a little slower?"

His huge smile answered her. "I've got nothing but time."

"Cheeky." She elbowed him playfully and they laughed when he pretended to be injured.

As she lay beside him with his arm draped over her waist, she asked quietly. "The rose petals in the hall?"

"I knew you couldn't resist an invitation. You humans, always so curious." Which netted him another elbow.

"I wanted to show you this." He held up the handwritten journal and Rose fingered the detailed engraving on the cover. A dark pink rose in full bloom, set against a pocket watch with more of the unrecognizable symbols scrawled below. "I've kept a record of my thoughts and feelings in here. Composed a few sonnets and the like. I find it easier to write feelings, rather then speak them out loud."

He could almost feel the synapses in her brain sparking. "So, that's why all the roses? You didn't know how to put your feelings into words?"

"Sorta' yeah."

They lay in silence wrapped in their thoughts and next to each other as sleep stole over them.

tbc


	10. Chapter 10

Beautiful. That one simple word contained more thought, emotions, and descriptions in those nine individual letters than volumes written by poets, described by wisemen or debated by scholars.

His eyes followed the symmetrical lines, caressing the gentle curves accentuated between light and shadows, memorizing every nuance and diversion created in the soft, fragile skin. Without physically touching he imagined the intricate and delicate feel of the smooth surface; his nerves tingled in anticipation at the envisioned contact. Inhaling the sweet fragrance, he allowed the rare scent to infuse his mind, sliding between cherished memories and blanketing him with a peaceful calm.

Closing his eyes he leaned back heavily against the wall, flinging the red rose to the side where it landed atop the jumbled mound of discarded blossoms heaped haphazardly beside him. Rubbing his face in his hands, he fought back a sob. Not good enough, he thought, hearing footsteps stop right outside the door. There was a sharp knock before the door opened and the Doctor found himself looking up into a pair of lucid blue eyes.

Jack's brow furrowed in confusion, taking in the small mound of cast-aside roses piled next to the unmistakably distraught individual sitting at his feet.

"Howdy, Doc." He began hesitantly, uncertain of the other man's state of mind as the Doctor peered back at him through red rimmed eyes.

Shaking his head the Doctor muttered. "Impossible." Shoulders drooped forward as his chin dropped onto his chest despondently.

"What's impossible?"

The Doctor jolted upright as if a charge of electricity had shot through him, Jack took a step back. "THAT!" He shouted, punctuating his words with a wave of his arm over the hoard of rejected flowers. "None of them are perfect!" He spat angrily. "Each of them is flawed, blemished, tainted, malformed, defaced, scarred, faulty in some way." Kicking the pile and scattering flowers across the floor, the Doctor glared down at the chaos, clenching his fists, incensed.

Comprehension slowly dawned as Jack observed the tantrum. Stepping around to the front of the time lord, he casually bent to pick up one of the roses and faced him calmly. Studying the blossom in his hand, he was unable to tell where the imperfection could lie.

"So, you want to find the perfect rose for the perfect girl?" The Doctor angled his head, warily watching Jack out of the corner of his eye. Undaunted, Jack continued.

"What makes her perfect?" He asked nonchalantly and was met with a fierce, eagle eyed stare. Raising his hands in submission, he stepped back pacifyingly. "Just think about this, Doc. Here you are trying to find something perfect," he raised the rose, "yet not one of these meets all the criteria." Jack retrieved another flower. "The way I see it, perfect is more of a perception. It's not obtainable, as it's subject to personal opinions and views." Placing the two buds together, he then added a third, a fourth, continuing to add more as he talked. "The good and the bad, everything combined, makes an individual unique. And unique, "he handed the small bouquet to the Doctor, "is what makes an individual perfect in someone's eyes."

Slowly turning the arrangement around in his hands, the Doctor viewed it from various angles.

"It's perfect."

He stated, awestruck, glancing back over to Jack, who laughed lightly and shook his head. Stepping forward, Jack placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, squeezed it slightly, leaned towards him and whispered in his ear:

"So is she."

Then he walked away, leaving the Doctor to think it through. For an intelligence far beyond most, it always surprised Jack at just how naïve the man could be when it came to matters of the heart. He had the feeling it would probably be a good idea to become scarce. Chuckling, he disappeared down the corridor.

The Doctor was grinning madly, comprehension finally setting in, and he headed down the corridor in the opposite direction. Jack was right, he mused, although it was something he would never admit, at least, never admit out loud.


	11. Chapter 11

The rose bouquet swung in small arcs, not quite brushing against his jeans as the Doctor strode into the control room and, in a few steps, was standing next to the console. Carefully setting the arrangement onto the center of the captain's chair, he turned and began casually turning dials, flipping switches, pulling levers, finally punching in a series of keystrokes as he calibrated the complex coordinates, prompting the ship into sudden motion.

Pushing back from the controls he stood, letting his eyes survey the various readouts, reached forward and twisted another dial. Once more, he straightened up and, folding his arms over the front of his leather jacket, he nodded in satisfaction at the varying symbols flashing across the screens.

His outward appearance of calm and assuredness was a carefully constructed front. Underneath the placid exterior crashed wave after wave after wave of embroiled emotions, a chaotic storm surging untempered below the surface. Thoughts clashed against long standing rigid pillars of conformity, torn between feelings and rationale; the battle waged, unrelenting in its ferocity and steady assault.

"Doctor?"

A slight tug on his sleeve brought him abruptly out of his reverie. He blinked, glancing down at the hand resting on his arm and into hazel eyes beginning to cloud over.

For the briefest of moments she peered deeply into the eye of the storm, feeling the assault bombard her. Disoriented, her mind flailing against the tempest, her senses were buffeted, captured inside the tormented mayhem, finding no hold to anchor herself as it threatened to completely engulf her. She was falling.

Instantly, the sensation was gone. The Doctor blinked.

"Rose!"

His arms encircled her, holding her closely to his chest, the steady rythmic beating of his two hearts calming her. She leaned heavily against the Doctor, eyes tightly shut against the unexpected onslaught; a slight shiver coursed through her and she took in a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"No," she shook her head, "not your fault."

"I would never intentionally hurt you."

She pulled away, gently pushing him back, and looked again into his eyes, determination and defiance meeting his steel blue reflection.

"So. Is that how you feel, inside?" Unable to tear his eyes from her intense questioning stare, he stood slack jawed as she continued. "All those emotions, jumbled, twisting crazily like. Doesn't it drive you mad?"

He swallowed. Would she believe him if he were to tell her it kept him awake, haunted his dreams, fueled the nightmares, left him in a blanket of shivering sweat when it surfaced to the forefront of his thoughts? It held him gripped in its madness, an overwhelming helplessness, a survivor's guilt leaving him to mourn the loneliness of his past actions.

Only she had broken through the barrier, given him that small spark of hope, been willing to stand at his side and not judge him. She was his salvation, he needed her, craved her presence, allowed her to consume his thoughts, rule his hearts, and desired her above all else. He remained silent, terrified of her reaction to his brutal honesty. To lose her would destroy him.

In answer to his silence she tenderly caressed his cheek, thumb gently wiping away a single, falling tear.

"You got me, yea?" She smiled shyly, tongue playing against her upper lip.

Closing his eyes, he slowly exhaled, letting her words wash over him as they offered a reprieve from his inner torment. Surrendering, he leaned into her hand, then pulled her to him with the desperation of a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. Returning his embrace, she spoke softly into his ear:

"I love you too."


	12. Chapter 12

Rose sat in the captain's chair, legs curled underneath her, hands idly turning the bouquet of red roses, her eyes following the delicate patterns of blooms interlaced together, occasionally taking quick glances at the Doctor as he fiddled with the controls on the console. She was unsure if his many adjustments, twists and turns to the numerous dials and switches interspersed along the console accomplished anything other than keeping him preoccupied, as he was definitely not one to sit idle for long. He caught her watching him and flashed her a reassuring smile; feeling suddenly shy, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze again to the floral arrangement.

The TARDIS landed with a soft thud. The Doctor cocked an eyebrow quizzically at the unfamiliar docking, eyes rapidly scanning the monitors, absentmindedly sliding his hand back and forth along the console, seeking any response to his silent question, then broke into a wide grin.

"Right then! Here we are, let's get a move on shall we?" Without waiting for confirmation, he grabbed Rose's empty hand and began pulling her towards the door, unable to contain his enthusiasm. She barely managed to snag her pink hoodie off the rail, still keeping a tight grip on the bouquet while being tugged forward laughingly in the Doctor's wake.

Quickly stepping through the doorway, Rose pitched forward unexpectedly as the ground shifted below her feet. Sand, she thought, struggling to regain her balance, with the Doctor's other arm around encircling her waist and steadying her.

"Thanks."

He nodded in reply, bending to retrieve her dropped jacket, shook it twice then settled it over her shoulders, his arm draped across anchoring it.

Consciously leaning into him, they continued walking across the beach. She welcomed the warmth his body projected in contrast to the cool ocean air mirroring the cloudy, grey sky above. Dark, raging, billowing clouds, clashing and meshing together, converging into indistinct compositions threatening to spill their contents on the unwary, bordered by craggy cliffs towering in majestic solemnity, guardians of isolation, awash with the unrelenting pounding and crashing of the tide. Archaic patterns worn away on the stone faces by the ceaseless battering of breakers throughout time, echoed the endless thundering concussions resonating back and forth within the enclosure.

She had to raise her voice to be heard over the tide's surging onslaught. "Where are we?" Shaking his head in response, he directed her towards a small overhang barely visible in the side of the cliff, camouflaged by shadows in the oncoming darkness. Scrambling over a low rock wall they climbed into the relative shelter offered, the Doctor assisting Rose until they were both sitting comfortably in the natural cavity, Rose leaned back against the Doctor's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her, chin resting on her shoulder. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to Nature's assault around them, yet enjoying her solitude.

"Lover's Cove."

Rose twisted her head slightly to confirm his sincerity, seeing a far away stare, she relaxed against him once more, silently willing him to continue.

"Legend says a young maiden and youth will be reunited once again when true love finds them."

"What 'appened?" She asked quietly.

"Their parents were opposed to their relationship. They sent the young man off to sea, thinking that by separating the lovers they would be forced to forget about the other. The two vowed no matter what came to pass they would remain true. Three years passed, the young maiden continued her vigil for the ship he sailed on. Her efforts were finally rewarded, only to be cruelly vanquished as she witnessed the ship ripped apart on the shoals."

Rose wrapped her arms around the Doctor's, his tale a melancholy blanket settling around her.

"Climbing down from the cliffs, she went in search of her lover. The ancients used to tell and retell tales of seeing in the ocean's spray a young maiden still questing."

"She just walked into the ocean? No one knows for sure?"

The Doctor's chuckle rumbled in his chest, "It's a tale, Rose. That's why they named this Lover's Cove. It's just an old story." He nuzzled her ear, planting soft kisses against her neck.

She turned into his kisses as he caressed her jawline with his lips and breath. Tentatively, he captured her bottom lip, lightly running his tongue over the soft curves, then began a languorous assault on her mouth. Exploring, tasting, teasing, they indulged in the discovery of their intimacy.

With a last lingering kiss, the Doctor pulled back looking down at the flushed face of his companion. No. She had become more than that to him, no longer just a friend, companion, or plus one. Staring into her eyes, he knew he couldn't fall any further than he already had. He had fallen for Rose. His Rose. His lover.

Wordlessly he stood, pulling her to her feet. Hand in hand, he led her back towards the TARDIS. A full moon pierced the darkness, illuminating a tiny expanse in the blackness surrounding them.

"Wait."

He felt her hand loosen in his and tightened his grip, turning towards her; she stood pointing back along their pockmarked trail. "I left the bouquet." She pleaded, stepping away as he let her go. Turning the familiar key into the lock, he pushed the door open, casually leaned up against the frame, and waited for her return. He heard her approach before he was able to make out her silhouette-- instantly, he was alert and tensed. Something wasn't right.

"Doctor," Rose's excitement was evident in her tone and her eyes as she ran towards him, hair bouncing catching a small bit of moonlight and creating a halo effect. She held her hand out invitingly before reaching him, then urged him into a run as she lead him back towards the beach. Stopping short of the water's edge, she pointed, and the Doctor followed the direction of her finger.

They watched in awed silence as the outline of two figures converged then faded away, a small shape bobbing on the water the only sign of their passing.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: First off thankyou to a little more sonic for being a beta, and this part was inspired by the July Senses Challenge at dwliterotica. Thanks for the wonderful reviews.**

So very soft.

A velvety feel, as light as the touch of a downy cloud, floating through the air, carried along by a calm breeze. Running his long fingers over the body, oh so gently caressing the delicate skin so as not to disturb, imperceptible hairs brushing against the pads of his fingertips, awakening his sensitive nerves. Slowly opening his hand, fingers spreading outward, he allowed himself to barely skim the surface, noting the radiating warmth left in the wake of his feathery touch.

Turning his hand over he pursued the slight curves with the back of his hand, skimming his knuckles tenderly in tiny circular patterns of an ancient language known only to himself. He traced the unique outline of the figure, mindful of the subtly changing hues and shades of colour following along defined contours, the contrast of light and darkness dancing illusively along the edges.

Closing his eyes, trusting his sense of feel to guide him, he leisurely committed the echoes of touch to his memory, once again retracing his previous path over the resting shape.

He lifted the single-stemmed, red rose to his lips, grazing the satiny petals with the lightest of contact, permitting it to linger for a moment as he inhaled the hypnotic fragrance burning into the recesses of his mind, surrounding and embracing the hallowed image.

Placing the flower on the headboard he turned to face his sleeping companion. Gingerly brushing back an errant lock of lustrous blond hair, he trailed his fingers down the soft strands to the curve of her neck, gliding timidly across the jutting collar bone to the recess below her throat.

He paused, a warm desire beginning to trickle through him, he drew a line upwards, pressing fingers against the pulse point faintly, so as to leave no impression, then let the steady cadence mesmerize him. Underneath his feather-lite contact, he experienced the surge of blood pushing through her veins with every heartbeat, the thrumming resonance repeating, and he marveled in the enduring complexity, yet delicate fragility, of this precious human. Small electrical currents jolted through his body, every nerve on fire and senses heightened tenfold, as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.

Surrendering to an overwhelming compulsion, he inclined his head, replacing fingers with lips, once more shutting his eyes. Flicking his tongue between his lips he captured, and savoured, the distinct flavours that comprised his Rose. He wondered at the numerous contours of her skin, creating tiny mazes for his tongue to explore, and was thrilled at the slight increase in speed of her heartbeat when he deliberately placed a wet trail across the side of her neck in pursuit of her fleeting life essence, pulsing just below the surface.

His breath created a pocket of warmth between the space their bodies shared, causing Rose to shiver slightly when he leaned back and the room's cool air touched the thin sheet of moisture he'd left behind.

Pulling the duvet up to cover them, he rested his forehead against hers, grinning as her measured exhales tickled his face. Sliding his hand under hers, feeling the softness in her smaller hand in sharp contrast to his, he curled his fingers around hers and squeezed slightly. A contented smile played on his lips when her hand tightened in response.


	14. Chapter 14

The strange music wove itself into the lengthening night. The sounds faded quietly into the darkness, seeming to chase the stars, before another refrain began whispering to the senses, gliding amongst the breathless fluttering of delicate materials, and brushing lightly across skin. Bodies swaying hypnotically to the imperceptible beat, as the central bonfire's flames leapt in time to the changeless, serpentine tempo.

Mesmerized, eyes closed, she let herself drift, as the stringed notes caressed her mind, infusing her with a peaceful calm. Abandoning inhibitions, succumbing to the subconscious, the unearthly tune lead her in the rhythmic dance. Unaware of the other figures drifting nearby, the melody transfixed and captured her every thought and desire.

Light and dark created shadows under her eyelids, patterns flashing briefly, a reddish kaleidoscope constantly shifting, then slowly, a silhouette began taking form.

A shape, all too familiar, not only in waking moments, but also in her dreams. It was, for that figure, she danced, invited, seduced.

He sat at the edge of darkness, pupils dilated, staring towards the circle of orange lights fluctuating to the throbbing pulse, hidden deep in the wordless strain. The shifting bodies, dancing before him, a mirrored reflection of the undulating metre surrounding them.

He understood the compulsion that raged through him, the desire coursing through his veins, and yet, he watched.

Watched her dance.

Her sensual movements, stirring a storm of emotions deep within, threatening to consume him, body and soul. He fought his inner demons, waging a silent war against the ancient perceptions, screamed defiance at the timeless, echoing shadows plaguing his thoughts, finally breaking the chains of carefully woven restraint.

And still he watched. Eyelids heavy, he followed her graceful motions, welcoming the alluring enchantment that settled over him, ensnaring him in its obvious web.

A subtle change in the tempo, from bewitching and enticing, to a deeper timbre: a resonant, primal pounding, reverberating through the mind.

The Doctor stands.

And Rose watches. Watches the lean figure advancing. A hunter stalking his prey. Dark, steel-blue eyes focus intently on hers, and in them she sees timelessness, a galaxy of stars swirling within the blackness of space. She's in danger of falling, falling into the obscurity of the void.

Strong arms wrap around her, catching her in a solid embrace as her knees buckle.

"Rose?!" A cry of alarm, relief, and yearning escapes, as he holds her securely against his chest, her single heartbeat fluttering slightly out of synch with his.

They remain interlocked, each absorbed in their seperate thoughts for a few moments, until the music envelopes them in its unrelenting drumming seeping once more into their conscious, arousing a deeper need.

An overpowering feeling of possessiveness sweeps through him, as the steady thrumming assails him relentlessly. Seeking escape, he leads her away, hands interlocked.

Eyes growing accustomed to the muted blackness of the night, Rose barely makes out a row of small huts lining either side of the path they are on. Nearing the last of them, the Doctor pauses to listen, then steps forward, pushing aside a heavy curtain, and pulling Rose in behind as he crosses the threshold.

"We can't just go barging in--" Her whispered allegation fades.

A small fire crackles in a rock alcove, shedding a small amount of light that illuminates shapes in the tiny room. A reed mattress spread across the floor, folded covers lay on top, set against the wall. Close by in a corner sits a small basin of water with two small flowers floating.

The Doctor reaches for her other hand, facing her. Numerous emotions play across his features, and she watches as he licks his lips then opens his mouth to speak. In that instant, leaning into him she acknowledges his questions, hesitations, and fears, with a kiss, silencing any doubts.

Light crept into the room over the top of the curtained doorway. Sleepily, Rose peered around the room, the fire now reduced to a few glowing coals, and snuggled further into the Doctor's warm, and comforting embrace. A slight movement caught her eye, blinking, she watched the flowers spinning slowly, floating atop the water. Two small rosebuds, one white, the other red, their stems wrapped tightly together.

Unity.

She smiled, remembering the Doctor's explanation, and once more closed her eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

**First let me thank Cryptically, for her wonderful patience, help, and lovely work. Second, thankyou dear readers for expressing your thoughts on these small vignettes, and let me introduce you to, the Doctor discovering just how to woo Rose. Henri is my own creation, and please forgive me if my facts aren't 100 percent correct. But feel free to leave your thoughts.**

Prequel to The Colour of a Rose

Henri slowly stood up, his hands pushing against the small of his back, as his body fought the stiff tension of age and many years bent over the Countess' numerous rosebeds. Finally, standing erect, he felt as if a large weight had been dropped off his back, and allowed himself to inhale large, deep breaths of air now that his lungs were no longer compressed.

Glancing upwards, wiping a dusty sleeve across the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead below the cap, he noted it was nearing time for his noon day meal. This day was proving to be another scorcher, standing under the merciless sun. It had been a week with no rain, no clouds, and even the normal breeze had mutineed, leaving him with the task of supplying moisture to the expansive gardens.

He removed his thin, wire-framed glasses, preparing to wipe his face, when an sudden gust of wind buffetted him, accompanied by a strange wheezing, whooshing sound. Turning towards the noise, he raised his arm in an attempt to shield his face from the swirling bits of dust being blown about. Squinting, he sought to locate the source of the noise, but was only able to make out the blurred images of the hedge. As the noises ceased and the air calmed around him, he quickly flicked the grime out of his eyes and replaced his glasses, peering deeper into the shadows.

He blinked a few times.

A large rectangular box had taken shape amongst the towering bushes. He would have attributed the peculiar box's appearance to heat fever, when an oddly dressed, tall man stepped out of an opening in the side.

"Hello."

The short-haired man grinned easily, his eyes dancing eagerly over the landscape before resting on Henri, who stood bewildered.

"Eighteenth century by the look of you." Henri took a hesitant step backwards. "I'm the Doctor, and whom might you be?" It was a friendly enough smile, he didn't carry himself like a soldier, and he had just identified himself as a man of medicine.

"I'm Henri, caretaker in ze Empress' service."

"Empress?" The Doctor seemed mildly impressed.

"Yes, Empress Josephine."

"Empress, Empress Josephine." He began pacing amongst the rows of flowers, muttering the name over and over to himself. Bending over, his hand stretched towards one of the flowers, he froze. "Josephine. Josephine Bonaparte? That Empress?"

He didn't look towards the caretaker for affirmation. "Josephine de Beauharnais. Empress Josephine, married to Napoleon Bonaparte." He exclaimed in eager delight.

"Was, sir. Zey no longer are." Henri uneasily watched the Doctor, hoping no harm would come to his plants. The Doctor's eyebrows raised slightly in comprehension as he grew somber.

"France. I'm in France. Chateau de Malmaison, if I'm not mistaken." He breathed softly, tenderly stroking the velvet bud with the tip of his finger, seeing the face of a young blond human girl staring back at him. "Rose."

Nodding in agreement, Henri stooped closer to the mysterious stranger, talking in a conspiratorial whisper. "Aye, ze Empress was once known as Rose."

"Yes." Stated the Doctor, standing quickly and startling the older gentleman. "Eighteen ten. Fine year. Fantastic year for..." his voice trailed off as he studiously surveyed the wide-spread floral exhibition, "Roses." Henri nodded in acquiescence, and smiled upon seeing the wonder on the other's face.

"Zey need a lot of attention. Many different types of roses, all special, in their own way."

"With their own language, their own symbolism." The Doctor finished, regarding the beaming florist, whose head was bobbing enthusiastically. "Teach me."

Henri stilled, searching the Doctor's face, and saw his own loneliness mirrored in the ancient, steel-blue eyes.

"How long now?" Prompted the Doctor quietly.

Shaking his head to hide the burning sensation in his eyes, he spoke softly, and stared down at the dirt. "Seven years." Long buried grief threatened to overwhelm him, and he felt a warm hand press gently against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry." murmured the low voice.

Raising his eyes again, Henri found it easy to entrust this stranger, and quietly admitted. "It was more zan worth it, having a second chance," he turned away shyly, "I had to ask her twice."

The Doctor jerked as if he'd been struck, his arm dropping back to his side. The image returned, burned into his memory, of her clutching the helpless, idiotic boy that clung to her like a life preserver, the simple shrug of her shoulders as if his question hadn't been important to her. Yet it was those eyes, so full of longing, a desire for adventure, the hope of freedom, innocent, questioning, and a depth of understanding that still haunted him.

Henri took the Doctor by the elbow, gently leading him towards his small cottage. "You are welcome to join me for ze afternoon meal. Zen, we will find you a way to her heart."

After a few minutes of silence, Henri stole a searching glance at his companion. Seeming to read his mind, the Doctor voiced tenderly:

"Her name is Rose."


	16. Chapter 16

_**This could be the end**_.

Wave upon wave of Dalek ships fill the sky, an abomination amongst the stars, and only myself and this tiny rag-tag team of seemingly unimportant humans are all that stands between the universe, and this unspeakable horror that will plague the cosmos, like a festering disease.

_**I could stop it**_.

I have the means, and the technology, here at my feet. I'm a genius, brilliant even, in my own mind. Yet, I see no escape, no chance beyond the next few moments. The small band of rebels seal their fate as they rise in defiance, with brash recklessness, accepting the futility of their actions against the deadly menace. If we are to end this threat, I must offer everything around me as a final sacrifice, but I hesitate.

_**I could run**_.

I am a coward. Time and again, not willing to face the inevitable, I could leave this pitiful civilization to its fate. Why fight for an ungrateful race? No matter how often I've come to their rescue, it's never enough. Always another threat, another species trying to dominate or obliterate, isn't that the normal cycle? The strong survive, the weak relinquish life, and then as always, the coward runs.

_**I could save you**_.

Oh Rose, how little do you realize your importance in what was once a miserable existence? You've given me new life, an innocent wonder when I see the universe through your eyes. You accepted this broken individual, without question, taught me again what it is to love and be loved. I am selfish, yet I promised Jackie I would take care of you. How am I to protect you now, with the knowledge that whatever I choose I will lose you?

My Rose, my precious girl.

_**I could die**_.

Knowing you will be safe with your Mother and Mickey eases the pain of letting you go. Here I stand, the last one left to face the false god.

Bad Wolf. Those two words have haunted me since we met. A prophecy of death, and myself the prey? Please tell me I haven't failed you, I've been the destroyer of so many. Their voices are endless echoes, a constant torture etched in my soul.

With this final act, I will silence them forever.

_**I could **_**-- **

No, I can't. I remove my hands from the lever amidst the scorn from mine enemy. Too many deaths to count, it has to stop, to end somehow. I step back, willing to accept my fate.

It is finished.

So much pain, suffering, crying, questioning. Faces long forgotten once again look upon me, and then I see you. Tears fill my eyes, but this is no illusion, no dream, as you stand in front of me bringing salvation again. My mind is reeling, my hearts bursting with all the love one can only begin to imagine for another.

"I think you need a Doctor."

Now, I'm holding you, kissing you, knowing what forever is, in those few moments we share, the thought hits me, it is your turn to let me go.

_**I could warn you**_.

Briefly, for time, even as my steady, ever-faithful companion shows me, is fleeting. The change has begun. A sharp fear strikes me, will my new self feel about you the way I do? This change scares me, I don't want to hurt you, or bring you pain, will you understand?

Doubt fills your eyes, I can hear disbelief in your voice, hesitation when I reach for your hand. How do I convince you? I sense something is wrong, a madness courses through me that I'm unable to control. Blackness overtakes me.

_**I could love you**_.

There's that smile, the one that says so much, without any words. Your hand settles in mine, your steady pulse and the conviction in your action. I am complete again. My hearts soar, unrestrained in the wisdom, free of all boundaries.

I have so much to tell you. But first, I have a gift for you.

I watch your face as you tentatively reach for this small token, delighting in the simple acceptance when I explain, revel in the loving embrace. And I understand the tears, when you set it adrift against the reddish-tinged, dusty remnants of Gallifrey.

I am unable to speak as my gaze follows the eight black rose petals floating away.

**A/N : The black rose signifies not only death, but also new beginnings, and the eight petals represent regeneration, and change. **

**Forgive me dear reader, as this story concludes. Nine/Rose had such a wonderful relationship, and I thought it only fitting that I end it with the regeneration into Ten. **

**I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this series, and appreciate all the wonderful comments and criticisms. Many wonderful thanks to my beta cryptically.**


	17. Chapter 17

**The Colour of a Rose - Epilogue**

Stepping into the backyard, one is struck by the beauty portrayed in the carefully manicured landscape, reminding the observer of a photograph one may find in the Unique and Beautiful Homes annual. So perfect in its presentation, it's difficult to believe something so exquisite, is possible to achieve with the guidance of mere human hands.

A serene calmness lies over the fenced in grounds, hidden from the casual passerby.

For Rose, its solitary wonder had become a haven, her escape from the ordinary. She searched within its confines for something, anything as a reminder to believe she hadn't been forgotten.

Strolling along the many pathways, some laid out in stones, others covered in tiny river pebbles, all winding and meandering between dark green bordering hedges and stepped floral gardens, whose colours varied with the seasons.

Subtle scents carried across on the whims of the breeze. A combination of faint delicate flowers, to the more pungent herbs, both lightly infused with the sweet odor of fruit, layered with the woodsy smell of ancient trees, laden with differing varieties and combinations of needles, cones, nuts and leaves.

Shadows grew and faded with the sun, a canvas of contrasting experiments in light and dark, moonlight's glow playing a different symphony as hushed tones of muted shades brightened and faded against a background of black.

Many hours she'd spent lying on her back, cushioned in the cool fragrant grass of summer brushing against bare skin, as she watched the clouds perform their silent choreographed ballet, never tiring of entertaining their guest.

Other times she'd gaze fixedly upwards at the multitude of stars staring back down upon the diminutive person who'd traveled amongst them as one of their own. Hopes and dreams flared as a comet shot across the still heavens, flashing brightly, leaving a streak of golden dust in its wake. If she closed her eyes, the vision of the night sky imprinted in her mind, she dared believe she could hear a voice whispering through the heavens.

She floated in the space between realization and sleep, where one sensed, rather than felt the world around them, and ever so subtly would succumb to the insistent comforting lull of slumber.

It was on one of these escapes, that she stumbled across the almost hidden bush, tucked between a back corner of the house and the worn brick parapet of the fence. Standing defiantly and alone in a darkened corner, she wondered how it had survived.

She included a visit to the solitary shrub, waiting for signs of the beginnings of a bud, curious to see it bloom. Months later she still found herself wandering past and inspecting the bush, noting the dull colour and brittle leaves now displaying as the cooler days forced many plants into their dormant cycle to patiently await springs awakening.

She heard a throat clear quietly behind her. Turning she noticed the elderly caretaker fidgeting, hat twisting in his hand and shuffling from one foot to the other, eyes lowered to the ground.

"Hi. My name is Rose." She smiled, hoping he'd realize they weren't any different.

He nodded, still not daring to look upwards. "Ze rosebush you watch," he indicated the plant she was kneeling in front of. "may never bloom."

Looking back, she reached out tentatively running a fingertip against the ragged edge of a leaf. "I don't understand, it looks healthy enough."

"Aye, zat it is. Healthy, yes. Very much so. But, it's said," squatting near her and gently lifting a few leaves in his own deeply wrinkled and weathered hand, "it is said to only bloom when true love is united." He dared to steal a glance at the young blond beside him; her face a complex sea of emotions, yet a deep sorrow lined her eyes.

"Why would anyone keep it then?" In that whisper he heard her depth of loss and despair. He began to understand.

"Did you not know, zat hope and optimism are represented by ze leaves?" She shook her head, as he fondly stroked the leaves. "Zis plant has been handed down for generations, introduced to my family in ze eighteen hundreds."

"Has it ever bloomed?"

"No one ever saw it bloom," he leaned closer to whisper, "but me. I saw it bloom." His grey eyes danced with wonder and remembrance. "When ze silver men came."

Rose felt her breath catch. "Doctor." She blurted out involuntarily.

"Ze Doctor," he stared ahead, still focusing on the past, "he took a cutting with him."

"You—you're saying he knew about this?"

The older man solemnly nodded, eyebrows drawing together as if trying to recall. "Said he was delighted to see ze bush doing so well, after all zese years." Shaking his head in disbelief he turned apologetic eyes to Rose. "He must have been in shock, poor man."

Rose burst out laughing and crying, tears streaming down her face as she cupped his startled face in her hands and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you! For giving me hope, and allowing me to continue to believe."

He struggled back to his feet and shouted after the disappearing girl. "Believe what?"

"In a fantastic life!" She called back over her shoulder.

~fin


	18. Chapter 18

Memories flooded her mind as she stood on the long stretch of sand staring out at the expanse of grayish-blue water.

Clouds veiled the sun, lending an early darkness to the day, and a strong wind reflected the mood of the waves crashing against the shore.

She shivered, wrapping her arms tighter around herself, blonde hair whipping about unchecked and watched as her footprints were washed away by the tide.

Her eyes blurred at the faint mechanical sound that reached her ears, growing louder, and she turned her head away as sand lifted and swirled about, tears streaming down her face.

He'd returned.

For the stretch of moments before the door to that wonderful, miraculous, blue, wooden box opened, Rose relived the past few years.

Those years spent reconstructing a life in an ordinary world, alone. Secretly hoping, wishing and praying he'd do the impossible.

"Doctor."

"Rose."

Their voices cried in unison as they ran towards each other. Years apart suddenly dropping away and were forgotten in smiles and tears as they embraced. The Doctor whirled Rose around with childish glee, his coat billowing out as they spun and unmindful of his wet trainers.

Nothing else mattered, for the moment, their moment. Their reunion.

All too soon, Rose realized that her dreams come true were just that—dreams, too good to be true.

She'd be brave, she told herself, sniffing and wiping at her nose. After all, she'd learned to live without him once. She could do it again. She could do anything, he'd taught her that.

Rose forced a smile, reminding herself he wasn't human. He was an alien, and aliens didn't have the same concept of emotions that silly apes had.

It was then the impossible happened.

Her Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, hands thrust deep in his front pockets, trench coat splayed behind him and rocking back on his heels. His head was tilted in that curiously goofy and innocent style he had.

Rose took a step back, looking from the Doctor standing before her in a brown pin-striped suit, to the Doctor in front of the TARDIS, dressed in blue and beaming widely at her.

"It's okay, Rose," the first Doctor assured her. "It's me, really, truly, me. Both of me," he grinned that mega-watt smile. "A clone. Exact replica. One-hundred percent, well—not exactly, more like eighty-seven percent me. But, still me." His words tumbled over themselves as he tried to explain, and the blue-suited entity strolled nearer.

"Hello," he exclaimed, his right hand raised and fingers waggling as enthusiastically as his hair danced.

"I wanted to stay, but I couldn't," the first Doctor said, launching into a scientific-explanation about time paradoxes and such which would have baffled even the top scientists of any times.

It was at this moment that Rose's world faded, slowly turning to black.

Rose blinked, opening her eyes to find herself staring into familiar brown eyes. "Doctor," she cried, throwing her arms around the blue-suited Doctor. "You won't believe the nightmare I just had."

"Oh, I think I might," he answered quietly.

"You left, and I thought I'd lost you forever."

"If there's one thing you've taught me, Rose, it's that nothing is impossible."

Still holding him tightly, Rose took in her surroundings and the nightmare shifted back to reality. "But—"

He pressed a finger to her lips, slowly shaking his head while holding her gaze. "I'll explain later," he said.

Leaping to his feet, he pulled her up and off the bed. "First, there's something you have to see." His enthusiasm was irresistible as he tugged her hand, urging her to walk faster.

She followed him through the house and out into the back garden, to the corner of the house where the rose bush that never bloomed resided.

"Wha—" Rose stood speechless, her hand entwined in the Doctor's and stared at the delicate blooms of iridescent roses that shimmered like rainbows as they caught the sunlight.

"Gallifreyan roses," the Doctor said as he faced Rose, taking her other hand. "They only bloom in the presence of true love."


End file.
